


Atlas and Jasmine Night

by Dominion_ed (Thorki_ed)



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Deviates From Canon, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, SOO SLOW, Slow Build, Violence, Wing Kink, eventual bath sex, human!Noma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:29:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5618710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorki_ed/pseuds/Dominion_ed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts off as pure jealousy, Alex wants to burn his tattoos off and never see Michael's face again... But suddenly waking up at 6AM to train with said archangel really has its perks, particuarly his bath. </p><p>forgive me, it's my first dominion fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why is it always Michael?

It started off as pure jealousy, stabs of uncontrollable hatred for the Great Protector. He’s mildly aware that he’s being unreasonable, but as the eyes of his lover turn to the archangel, bright and shining, he wants nothing more than for Michael to fly away from Vega and never turn back. He wants to wrap his arm around Claire as Michael approaches the pair with his confident stride. He’s opted for more formal attire with a crisp black dress shirt instead of a v-neck, sleeves rolled up along his forearm, his signature tattered black coat missing. It’s an odd sight for Alex having never seen Michael care for his look much.

“Good evening, archangel,” Claire greets him with a small curtsy, smile wide and dazzling.

“Ms. Riesen,” Michael responds with a respectful dip of his head. “Sergeant Lannon,” he greets Alex the same.

“Archangel,” he responds after Claire’s nudge in a cool tone, though making no move to bow like everyone else did. So what if he was an angel? Sure, he helped humanity during the war, but was his constant presence really needed? He stared at Michael with cold eyes, cold as the angel’s when he turned to the whip as means of punishment.

“Quite the turnout,” Michael comments, eyes scanning the whole room, hundreds of attendees in sight. A pre-Jubilee celebration hosted by house Riesen was sure to attract, mostly V-3s and above mingled together.

“Yes, it’s wonderful,” Claire replied ecstatically. “Thank you for attending, I’m sure you must be very busy, but I truly believe the people take comfort in your presence.”

Michael’s blue eyes were unblinking as he took her words in, almost as if he was unsure how to respond. “I hope they do,” he said quietly after a moment. Michael then complimented Claire, which caused the woman to smile wider before he was waved over by Senator Thorn. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said politely, dipping his head once more to the both of them.

Alex turned to Claire with a cocked eyebrow.

“What?” Claire responded, shrugging Alex’s look off. Alex never mentioned it again.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

But, Claire wasn’t the only one.

After the disaster that occurred at the Jubilee, trapping them in the bunker, he watched Michael prove himself again, defending his city. He saw the higher angel with his battle gear, wondering if Michael could pierce through his armour.

“I have to go help him,” he stated. He knew that the city depended on Michael, and thus, made him a priority for protection.

“You’re needed here,” Jeep countered, voice as strong as the grip on his son’s arm.

Studying the archangel swiftly deflect and attack with his trademark dual swords gave Alex a newfound respect for the angel - he was one heck of a fighter, no denying that. As the duel progressed, his previous worry for the angel dissipated.

Yet, life was cruel to him, and in the moment that he thought he could respect and appreciate angels, his whole world crashed around him as his father lay dying in his hands. Anger rushed through him - anger for the disgusting creatures that stole his family as he watched the child monster climb through the vent, anger for himself at refusing his dad’s return to his life, but above all, anger at Michael for putting this upon him.

“He is under my protection.”

 _Like Hell I need your protection._  He wanted nothing more than to burn the tattoos off his body and never have to look at Michael again.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course, that was too much to ask for, having to work under Michael and all.

“Ethan? Helloooo? Earth to Ethan?” Alex waved a hand in front of his friend’s face.

“Uh?”

“Intelligible answer,” Alex snorts.

“Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“Forget it, what were you staring at?” Alex jostled his friend over to see what the pillar was blocking from his sight. He couldn’t fucking believe it. There was Michael, greeting the newest class of graduates into the Archangel Corps. Back to his usual attire, his black coat was fanning around his legs as he walked in front of the line of recruits, clearly going over the rules now that their lives were about to change. Alex hated the way the angel walked, back straight and shoulders broad, like he was the most powerful being on Earth. _He is, though, isn’t he?_ Alex shook his head free of the thought. Perhaps he was being petty, perhaps the jealousy still lingered from when Claire’s eyes lit up at the sight of him, but it faded as he saw the same admirable look in the new recruits. They were in awe of the angel, nodding and hanging onto every word that came from Michael’s mouth, ready to pledge their allegiance.

“Are you warm? I’m warm,” Ethan’s voice interrupted.

“Dude,” Alex confronted his friend, realization dawning on him as he saw Ethan’s eyes trained on Michael as well, nervously licking his lips. “You… _Michael?”_

 _“Shut up,”_ Ethan growled at him, face reddening. It was hard for him to concentrate around the archangel, his mesmerizing blue eyes always unblinking, demanding dominance and attention.

“... Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?” Alex suddenly asked, feeling almost betrayed that his friend didn’t trust him with a secret

“I guess it never came up? And… I’m not really a big fan of the other guys knowing. Makes showering more awkward,” Ethan replied with a shrug, but the implication was there. He was still trying to sneak peaks at the archangel, who was now walking the new recruits over. “That’s why I always shower with Noma.” Alex could’ve slapped himself upside the head for being so clueless.

“Secret’s safe. But really, dude, out of everyone… Did it really have to be _him_?” Alex’s face contorted in disgust.

“Oh hell yeah,” Ethan answered, too enthusiastically for Alex’s liking. “Have you _seen_ him? I bet you everyone wants a piece of that.”

“Archangel, sir,” Ethan bowed his head deeply when Michael reached them.

“Sergeant Mack, “ Michael responded with his damned head-dip that Alex was tired of seeing. “Sergeant Lannon.”

“Sir,” he replied curtly.

“Two of our best,” Michael announced to the new group with an outstretch of his arm gesturing at the two men. “My hope is that you will follow in their footsteps.” He then turned to carry on the small tour, leaving Ethan’s eyes trailing his back.

“ _He knows my name!”_ Ethan hushed excitedly. “Holy shit he actually praised us! He said we were his best!”

“ _Two of_ his best.”

“Stop trying to ruin my day.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Alex wished it stopped there, but it didn’t. Having been assigned to Whele’s detail, he and a handful of other Sergeants attended an informal meeting amongst the Council members at an upper-class restaurant. The meeting was well underway with Alex, Noma and Ethan along one side of the wall, weapons ready. Along the other wall, three more guards stood at the ready. None were prepared when a mass of black landed before them, wings open wide enough to swallow the Sun.

“Hold your fire!” Noma shouted, recognizing Michael. Unfortunately, one of the guards was a little trigger happy, and as the deafening shot rang out, Michael’s wing barely came up in time. The speed and grace as he deflected the bullet made Alex’s heart skip a beat. The power and strength of the archangel was never more evident as the archangel held his ground, feet planted firmly in place, eyes trained on the soldier who had fired.

“Sergeant!” Senator Thorn’s voice was almost laced with venom as she faced her guard, Jamie O’Connor. His face blanched at the realization of what he had done.

“Archangel, sir, my deepest apologies,” O’Connor immediately dropped on one knee, dropping his weapon immediately. Alex held his breath - he didn’t really know the consequence for firing at the archangel, but he was certain it would be the highest of punishments. Death, perhaps? He didn’t want to think about it. All eyes were trained on Michael, who shrugged his shoulders to retract his wings. His face was stoic, showing no sign of what he was going to do.

“Michael -” Senator Thorn began.

To everyone’s surprise, he raised a hand to dismiss her apology. “No need. Sergeant O’Connor, to your feet, please.” He offered a hand to the trembling soldier. He finally looked up from the ground and gulped before accepted the extended hand. Michael easily pulled him to his feet.

“I - I’m sorry,” O’Connor stuttered. “I would never have-”

“Be more cautious next time, not everyone will have the ability I do,” Michael warned, a serious look in his eye. “I expect you to work on this, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” O’Connor agreed immediately before bowing and stepping back in line. Alex could see the sweat on his brow from here as he took shaky breaths to calm down.

He watched as Senator Thorn eyed him with wonder - was she impressed by his show of compassion? He shared a glance with Ethan and Noma; they had the same thought. _Who knew the archangel could be so merciful?_ It wasn’t the hard, fierce, ruthless angel he remembered from his whippings.

He was relieved for Jamie, but he also realized that Michael called him by name as well. Did it mean that the archangel knew everyone, took the time to learn and study them as individuals?  


	2. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some warming up to the angel! finally! remember that slow build tag? yeah, totally not kidding.

It took him a long time to accept it; there was always something pushing or pulling him, but in the end, he caved and agreed to train with Michael. What good was being the Chosen One when he failed to save even a single soul? Images of Frost appeared in his nightmares - he was been _this close_ to salvaging the situation… and he _failed._ For the first time having accepted his role, nothing had come out of it. Seeing the tributes left to Senator Frost made him angry, upset, but above all, disappointed in himself. He was strangely comforted by Michael’s presence , but it gave him a clear sight of what to do next. And that was how this all went to Hell.

Truth be told, it was really hard to see the archangel coming at him, the Sun blindingly bright and his own sweat dripping into his eyes. The heat was excruciating and Michael’s calm demeanor put him on edge. He just didn’t get it! It shouldn’t be this hard, he was a top-notch recruit, impeccable in training and often  looked up to - so why couldn’t he just shoot the bloody angel out of the sky? His mind refused to focus - he saw memories of Michael, in his fitted black dress shirt that made him look so _human,_ in the bunker declaring his vow to protect Alex, the acknowledgement in front of the recruits, the kindness he had shown when he spared O’Connor’s life when surely nobody else would have…

He was quickly knocked out of his small revelation as Michael’s wing hit him square in the chest, forcing him on his back once more. This time, he barely had the strength to get up. He could see the frustration and confusion on Michael’s face, which he knew was reflected in his own. He barely listened as Michael explained what he _should have_ done - shadows, Sun, blah, blah.

He just really wanted a shower and a bed. “I’m… sorry,” he grudgingly said. He was ashamed of himself for not reaching Michael’s expectations, but he wasn’t quite sure if it was because he wanted to please Michael or if he wanted to prove something to himself. Regardless, he shed the last of his dignity. “Could I… borrow your shower? I just don’t have a ton of time before -”

“Your rotation, yes,” Michael finished. Before Alex could say another word, Michaels’s arms were under his and the ground disappeared beneath his feet as he soared above Vega to the Stratosphere.

\----------------------------------------------------------

He’d been to the Stratosphere enough times to be familiar with the layout; Michael kept very little possessions, yet what he did have was grand and lavish. His bed, of pure silk, overlooked the entire city with it’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Alex, however, had never been in the bath chambers. Upon entering, he was greeted with an enormous rectangle bath of black marble, sunken into the floor that must have been bigger that the whole showering area back at the training camp. He could fit at least ten people in the bath. He gingerly stepped toward it, and down the _stairs_ that led to the bottom of the pool. He turned the taps on and realized there was a large shower-head that hung above the tub. Deciding on not asking for any help, he fiddled with the taps trying to get the shower-head going but only succeeded in filling the tub with rapid-flowing water. Giving up, he settled into the crook that jutted out from the walls all around the bathtub, which acted as a sort of bench. He eyed the bottles that lined the perimeter of the tub that displayed oils, scents, soaps, washes, scrubs, and a variety of other things. He wondered what Ethan would take from this collection - surely the archangel wouldn’t miss one bottle amongst the fifty? He settled on a plain white bottle that read “Midnight” and squeezed some of it into his palm, after a quick sniff, he lathered, ran it in his hair and down his body. He was used to using a bar of soap for everything, after all. The water was pleasantly warm, and he took a moment to enjoy how the water embraced his whole body, so different from having to stand under such a small stream back at camp. If not for the knock at the door, he might’ve lost himself in the luxurious bath and hoped the world wouldn’t have noticed he had disappeared.

“Alex? Is everything alright?” Michael’s muffled voice came through the door. Alex sighed. He knew he didn’t have much time to get himself to Whele’s, so he reluctantly pulled the drain and hauled himself up the stairs and out of the tub, quickly drying off with the towel.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute!”  He took the silence from the other side of the door as understanding. The room had filled with a lovely warm steam, lulling Alex to sleep, which made it that much more difficult to open the door, towel around his waist.

“You’ve only a few minutes,” Michael informed him, an amused smile on his face. Alex wanted to flick it off his face.

“Maybe you should get a clock in there,” Alex said sourly.

“I take it you enjoyed my bath,” Michael pursued, ignoring Alex’s comment. There was no use hiding it, of course.

“That’s a pretty big tub you have, all for yourself…”

Michael fanned his wings out, a gust of air sending a shiver through Alex’s body. “They take up more space than you’d think.”

Alex couldn’t help but smile a bit at the angel’s light-hearted joking as he tugged on his clothes. He’d never seen Michael act this way, and he began to realize that it must be exhausting having to be the icon of power and hope for the city. Maybe that’s why he was pushing Alex so hard to fulfill his destiny as the Chosen One… so he could return home and laugh with his friends and family rather than put on a blank, emotionless face here in Vega, a rotting city. There was a whole side to Michael that Alex didn’t even think about… of course he wasn’t always a Protector or Warrior, all sharp looks and sharp swords. It made Alex wonder about who Michael was before the war.

“I’ll give you a lift so you’re not late,” Michael interrupted his thoughts.

“Wha?”

“You have about four minutes, Alex,” Michael stated.

“Shit!” Alex panicked, gathering the last of his belongings and fixing his straps.

“Come along,” Michael gestured to the window, indicating for Alex step to the ledge. _Great,_ Alex thought. _Now he’s giving me lifts to and from work like a boyfriend._ Before he even had time to register that last thought, Michael’s powerful arms locked under his armpits and they took off, hundreds of feet above the city. Alex always felt an adrenaline rush when he soared with the angel - with just a tiny slip, he could be sent plummeting to his death. But, of course, Michael never slipped. He delivered Alex safe and sound to Whele’s doorstep in just under two minutes.

“Thanks, I owe you one,” Alex said naturally. Michael gave an inquisitive look, but stepped back nonetheless to get ready to take off.

“Training tomorrow, 6AM sharp,” Michael reminded, to which Alex gave a nod to confirm. “And good choice, Midnight is a favourite of mine.” With another amused look, he took flight, leaving a small dust cloud where he stood just a moment ago. Alex watched as the beautiful wings flapped with strength and elegance, soon becoming a black dot in the sky. He walked through Whele’s door , wondering where the delightful, joking angel came from and where he had been hiding this whole time. He had to admit, he found this Michael’s company much more enjoyable, chuckling to himself about Michael’s comment.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next training session had much better results; this time, Michael opted for hand-to-hand combat training, handing Alex a pair of daggers as well.

“I have fought with these blades for centuries,” Michael told him, eyeing his twin blades with admiration. “They were a gift, from someone I love very deeply.” Alex felt like he was interrupting something sacred. The look in Michael’s eyes showed so much emotion that Alex almost forgot how stoic his face could be - he saw hurt and longing. Was it a lover that Michael thought about?

“Needless to say, I have had much practice with them and am biased on the matter, but I believe these are the greatest weapons. It allows for flexibility and accommodation - you use both hands in combat, but should you lose one, you may fall back on the second. Furthermore, they are short enough that the weight will not wear you down such as broadswords to, yet long enough to still give you a good ranged advantage.” Michael went on to explain his weapon of choice while instructing Alex on how to hold them, attack and defend with them and how to move fluidly with them as though they were extensions of his arms. It was difficult at first, having never favoured swords, but the daggers were lighter than he expected and soon he began to feel more comfortable under Michael’s guidance. He was able to deflect many of Michael’s basic attacks, parrying them to the side and made progress in wielding them, though he was unable to land a hit on the angel.

“You did quite well, Alex,” Michael beamed proudly. Something about his tone and smile made Alex’s stomach flutter. He returned the smile, proud of his hard work and happy that Michael was pleased with today’s training. He gulped greedily for air as the training exhausted him, wiping his forearm across his brow to stay the sweat. He turned to the archangel, but the question died on his lips. Without even asking, Michael scooped him up and flew them back to his perch.

This time, Alex didn’t bother with the shower-head, opting for the full bath instead. It filled quickly as Alex looked around at the various bottles and selected one at random. “Amber Wood” was a lighter scent, but pleasant nonetheless and Alex was beginning to think that the aching muscles and way-too-early training sessions were worth it if he could stay in these baths forever. He heard the telltale knock on the door, Michael hadn’t even bothered to say anything this time. Feeling like a child whose parent had to wake them up for school, he dutifully left the heavens of Michael’s bathtub and exited the chambers. Michael handed him a clean uniform which he put on.

“Amber Woods, interesting,” Michael commented.

“Do you memorize all your soaps for fun?” He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be impressed or creeped out that Michael could sniff him out.

“Angels have heightened senses, Alex. Being here on Earth has dulled them somewhat, but I like to keep in practice,” he answered. “Ready?” he asked, already taking his place by the window. He looked as though this was his everyday task, standing straight with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting patiently for Alex. It was actually quite endearing.

And so, the routine continued. He found himself learning more and more about the angel as they carried on their training sessions. It was no longer a question whether Alex could use his baths but rather whether or not Michael could guess which soap he had used that day.

“You should know better than to try and trick me Alex,” Michael stared seriously at Alex before tilting his chin up and smirking. “Trying to use two scents to mask each other is an amateur move.”

“Oh yeah?” Alex called his bluff. “Name both of them.”

“Atlas and Jasmine Night,” Michael responded confidently.

“Dammit!” They both laughed at this, and in that moment, Alex realized that Michael was more than just a mentor and superior to him… They were friends. They laughed and joked together, fell into comfortable silence and routine, and they even had inside jokes. How the Hell did this become his life?

\----------------------------------------------------------

It had been about three weeks since they settled into this routine. Alex was shocked at how much Michael had opened up to him. Even after hearing Michael’s guilt-ridden recalling of his time as The Flood, Alex could barely picture Michael being so cruel. The thing about Michael was the he was _genuine_ \- he realized that all that time spent thinking Michael was emotionless he had been wrong. Michael was passionate, and had a deep concern for his own actions. But, Michael was human in many ways - one being that he let his guilt eat at him day after day.

“People change, man. That’s the whole point… If you dwell too much on your past, you end up losing the opportunity to make it right in your future. The past… well, it’s in the past.” They sat side by side, legs dangling over the edge of the Stratosphere. For the first time, he was relieved of duty early as Whele wished to have a private council with his son. And so, with several hours to spare, he decided to visit the archangel, expecting either more training or an order to return to the Archangel Corp base. Michael regarded him with deep thought in his eyes.

“There is much you don’t understand yet, Alex,” Michael said quietly. “I fear that my past is not as behind me as you think. There are many days where I think about the destruction I brought and sometimes… I can still feel the rush from exacting punishment by Father’s command. I excused myself from blame and let myself become His Sword. I let myself loose and it is a difficult task to keep this part of me locked away.” They both stared ahead, watching the last of the Sun’s light descend and the sky being swallowed by darkness. Vega’s city lights flickered with a multitude of colours, illuminating the horizon. It was beautiful at night, and it made Alex temporarily forget the position the city, and humanity, was in.

“I wouldn’t have been able to tell,” Alex assured him. “When people look at you, the first thing they think of is protection. They see you as a saviour, as hope, as the symbol of humanity’s survival. That’s _now._ The things you’ve done, the people you’ve hurt… it’s over now. Focus on the people _here_ and _now._ ”

Michael nodded slowly, reluctant to forgive himself. _And I thought I was damaged,_ Alex thought. It was a little worrying, to see how much the archangel struggled with his emotions. As though his greatest enemy was… himself.

There was a moment of silence as they lost themselves in their thoughts and words. Alex wanted to assure the angel again, but couldn’t think of the words to do so without sounding like a broken record. He was interrupted by a shrill shriek in the air. 

  
Suddenly, Michael’s eyes became stone-hard once more, alert and attentive. They shared one glance before the angel unfurled his large wings in a whirlwind of black and the two of them took off, guided by the screams that filled the air.


	3. An Angel's Wings

The scene was horrific, a mountain of 8-balls clawed at the gate, some of them being crushed to death by their kind, desperate to climb over. The walls were high enough that no citizen ever worried about lower angels getting into the city without the gate being opened, yet they had found a way, remarkably enough. Swarms and swarms of black-eyed monsters charged the gate, clambering with uncoordinated limbs. Coincidentally, they created a large enough mound of their own bodies to climb over the top. There were pools of blood where the first ones over had plummeted to their deaths, bodies smashed and skulls split open, black eyes lifeless. Some lucky 8-balls managed to land on the bodies of their fallen comrades, shaking off their tumble and headed straight for the people of Vega. Innocent civilians laid across the street beside the angels, throats torn and bodies disfigured.

“Holy shit…”

Michael grunted in agreement before landing them in front of the gate. “The Corp is on its way, but for now…”

“We’re on our own. Yeah.”

Michael reached for his swords, fingers curling lightly over the handles before gracefully unsheathing them. Wings tense, he made for the nearest 8-balls, swirling with wings and blades in sync, felling dozens of angels at a time. Alex held his gun steady, making sure not to fire until he had a shot. Each bullet went to the head of his victims, one falling after another. He felt the attention draw away from the citizens fleeing the scene, which was good - except the fact that he had limited ammo left. _Shit_ , he thought to himself, fumbling in his pockets for more rounds.

“Alex!”

He felt rather than saw Michael land behind him, touching their backs together. “I have to go over the wall, it’s pointless to keep fighting if only more will replace them.”

“Great idea, minus the fact that I’m running out of bullets.” And as if on cue, his gun clicked as he fired. He felt dread pool in his stomach as he watched the advancing 8-balls surround them.

“Take these,” Michael said over his shoulder, handing his blades to Alex. He felt a sense of anxiety, parting with his beloved weapons, but he had the utmost faith in Alex.

“What? No! Are you crazy?”

“I won’t leave you defenceless, Alex. I’ve seen you wield dual blades, I have faith that you will return them to me when this is over. Make your way to the gate, I will meet you there.” He didn’t give Alex a chance to protest any further as he faced the angels in front of him, eye on the gate. He needed to take away their entrance to the city. He braced himself as he swung his wings, sharp as steel. It was tedious and gruelling work, slashing down mindless enemies in an effort to get to the gates. He didn’t have a spare moment to check behind him, trusting Alex to take care of himself. All he could do was create a clear path to gate, to make sure Alex could reach him safely without finding himself surrounded. His wings were smeared with blood, patches of feathers were ruffled and damaged from the desperate clawing of the 8-balls. He tucked them away for just a brief moment to give them rest but found that it caused him immense pain. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out, swinging his fists to fend off the enemies. When he was just a few feet from the gates, he hissed sharply as he unfurled his damaged wings, pain flaring from the tips all the way down his spine. He took off with as much energy as he could muster and headed for the top of the gate. He knocked down the angels at the top with a powerful sweep of his wing before dropping on top of the mound, sending angels flying from top of the bodies. He heard their shrieks as the fell to their deaths, followed by a sickening crunch. He continued to tear the mound apart, slashing the pile with his wings with as much strength as he could muster, fighting through the pain. Alive or dead, lower angels were being taken out from the pile while vehemently pulling at Michael’s feathers.

He had to land. He gritted his teeth as he launched himself at the pile, kicking angels left and right. He felt his feet being sucked into the pile of bodies as though it were sucking him into it. Frantically, he fended off the angels barreling towards him before snapping the hands that had a hold of him and flinging them to the ground below. The pile was never-ending, it seemed as Michael looked around helplessly. As soon as he rid the angels, more would take their place. Where did this army come from? How had they amassed like this without  drawing attention to themselves? Michael was furious at himself for not noticing such a huge gathering of power. He felt his feet once again being shackled by the hands of multiple angels and decided he couldn’t continue to stand here. He took to the sky once more, wings protesting the extra weight of the angels that had held on. He kicked them off, sending them flailing through the air. How much longer could he keep this up?

“Alex!” he shouted, hoping the man would respond.

“Down here!” Michael spotted the soldier waving at him from the ground. He felt relief as he saw masses of blue enter the battlefield, signalling the arrival of his Corps. Alex had back-up, which meant Michael’s undivided attention was back to the pile. He had taken at least a hundred of them, which had stopped the mountain from reaching the top of the gate, but it would take very little time for bodies to amass again. He perched himself at the top of the gate, ready to strike them down before they could get over.

“I’ll keep them out of the city while you rid those who have already gotten in!” Michael shouted. He could make out Alex’s nod. The soldier began to divide those just arriving to the scene, giving them the battle plan. He had to trust Alex to think of a plan and the city to use its resources. For now, all he could do was defend. _Focus on the here and now._ With renewed vigor, he charged at the mass once more, folding his wings as close together as he could behind him, like a shark fin. He gritted his teeth and shot downward through the pile. He felt every swat, hit and tug at his wings as he sliced down the side of the mound, all the way down to the ground before he swooped back up, flapping his wings to strip them of flesh and blood. His wings felt heavy as iron but he knew his work was not done. He had, however, collapsed the pile outside the gate so it was only half its size. He sighed in relief, knowing the 8-balls would have difficulties getting into the city now. Still, they launched themselves at him, and by sheer numbers were able to riddle his body with scratches and wounds. His battered wings protested as he swung out with them, his most powerful weapons when he was without his blades. _I need to get back to the city, back to Alex…_

He tried to take off, but his wings were sluggish. He felt a yank on his right wing, which sent him crashing to the ground.

He grunted in pain as he got to his feet, growing wearier with every second. He tried to take flight once more but found that five 8-balls has grabbed a hold of his right wing again. He turned and tried to fight them with his fists as his wing was held captive. Nearby angels came to scene and clambered on top, Michael desperately fighting and yanking his wing out of their grasp. But with so many of them holding on and now an angel sitting on top his wing, he crashed to the ground, pain shooting up his ankles. He was effectively grounded now.

With a grunt, he dug his heels into the ground, swung his free wing, and thrust forward, tearing his wing out of their greedy grasp. He hissed at the stinging pain of his feathers being torn from their follicles. He felt his wings quiver under the strain as he turned upward to fly over the gate. With a weak flap, he finally landed on the gate, taking a moment to rest. His breath hitched with exertion. He’d never seen so many 8-balls fight together with a cause. Every slight movement his wings made was like torture, his right wing almost useless at this point. He knew the feathers he lost would grow back, but it pained him to move right now. Taking a deep breath, he knew he could not take so much time to himself. With one more lift, heavily relying on his left wing, he glided downward to the Corps that awaited him. He quickly tucked his wings in so that nobody could see the state of him, letting himself drop the last few feet. With a slight stumble, he jogged lightly to Alex. There was a confused look on his face, but Michael turned away, hoping Alex would understand to still his tongue.

“Archangel!” Noma greeted as she gave him a rundown of the progress. The city briefly met, unanimously deciding to drop a bomb on the pile outside. They had evacuated the area and would reinforce the walls to minimize any damage to the city.

“Good. Proceed,” Michael responded. Noma gave the go ahead to the lieutenant, who promptly took to radio. Michael began to walk away from the carnage, desperate to get to safety back in the Stratosphere.

“Where are you going? Don’t you wanna be here when we finish?” Noma called out after him.

“No, I trust that you will see it to the end,” Michael said. Noma seemed satisfied, pleased that she was trusted by the archangel. “I have some other matters to attend to.” He made his way through the soldiers, all attentive and bowing their heads slightly as he walked by. He never asked for the appraisal, but he was comforted that they would fight for the city - for him. He needed the assurance that if anything happened to him, his Corps could care for humanity as he had.

He let the voices die down behind him, coming to silence minus a pair of footsteps that trotted behind him. He was too exhausted to converse with the soldier trailing behind him, but figured Alex just wanted to see where he was heading. When they reached the base of the Stratosphere, he expected Alex to say something, to leave, to join his comrades in what he was sure would be a rowdy night of celebration - this was one of the largest attacks on Vega in the last 25 years.

“Why are you not flying?” Alex asked, suddenly at Michael’s side as he stepped in the elevator. There may have been a trace of worry in his voice.

Michael swallowed thickly, trying to keep his composure even though his back felt like it was on fire, muscles screaming in agony and skin itching beneath the surface. “It’s nothing,” Michael attempted.

“Yeah, bullshit.”

When they reached the top, Michael immediately went into the bath chambers, clumsily tearing his clothes off as he dropped into the tub from the side instead of walking to the stairs. He flung the taps to the highest pressure, desperate to fill the tub with soothing, warm water. He barely noticed Alex follow him in. He was unabashed at Alex seeing him bare; his concern lied in how Alex would view him, if he saw the display of weakness. Would the human lose faith if he saw the city’s protector so vulnerable? Would he still respect him as a mentor if he was almost defeated by 8-balls?

“Hey,” Alex said softly. He walked closer to the edge of the tub so that Michael could see him out of the corner of his eye. “You saved my life… again.” He gently placed Michael’s swords down, the soft sounds of metal echoing in the large room. Michael saw that Alex had wiped the blades down, as though no wanting to desecrate them. He smiled appreciatively at the soldier.

  
“Thank you,” he said solemnly. The sight of the blades alone gave him an ounce of strength to sit and straighten his back. He was right to trust Alex with his most precious gifts, he could trust the man with this as well. With a contorted face, he spread his wings again, inhaling sharply as the raw flesh and follicles were exposed to the air and water. Michael breathed calmly, letting his wings sag, and hoped that Alex would not betray him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> working on that last chapter to hopefully wrap everything up nicely. some wings and baths and smut coming your way! feedback is appreciated <3 thanks for the read!


	4. Help and Healing

...

“Holy… What the Hell!” Alex exclaimed. Within seconds he was hovering behind the angel, hands outstretched to touch before he retracted them. “How… How do I help?”

Michael froze. He was not expecting such a rapid response to help, nor was he used to being offered help. He missed the strength he possessed in Heaven, not having to rely on anyone. Yet here, the human had shown sympathy, understanding and a willingness to aid him.

“There’s no much I can ask you to do. They’ll grow back, eventually.” He calmly reached for a large clear vase with a light blue liquid and tipped in into the bath under the faucet.

“How long does it take?” He’d never seen the angel’s wings in such bad shape, he saw a couple of fistfuls missing from the right wing, which drooped lower than the left.

“When they shed it doesn’t take more than a day or two but…”

“But these ones were ripped out,” Alex concluded bitterly.

“Precisely.”

Alex sighed. Michael was acting so calm, taking a _freaking bubble bath_ of all things, but Alex could barely contain his emotions. If hadn’t taken his daggers… Michael would have undoubtedly finished the job a hundred times faster, without taking so much damage. But the angel had been so hellbent on protecting him, and paid a heavy price. He wasn’t an angel, but he knew what the wings meant. They were everything to an angel.

“Sit forward a bit,” he ordered the angel, taking off his boots and socks. He went to roll up his pant legs but decided _to hell with it._ He left himself in just his under shorts and placed his legs in the water, grateful for the chance to soak his aching feet. There were so many cloths and sponges to choose from, but he went for a black towel so the blood wouldn’t show. He carefully lifted Michael’s left wing, gently taking the cloth to the dark plumage. He went row by row, careful not to miss a feather. The first time he wedged his hand between the feathers, he felt an involuntary shudder through the wing in his hand.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, but Michael kept his eyes closed and shook his head. He took the angel’s word for it and kept working the feathers. He found that the deadly weapons of an angel were soft, not at all sharp as he had expected. There were clumps of what Alex can only guess to flesh or torn clothing, trapped in the barbs of the feathers. Honestly, it was a little disturbing, but it gave Alex a better understanding of how an angel’s wings functioned. He also saw the softest tuft beneath each wing closest to the shaft that attached the feather to the wing. The water ran pink with the blood that came off of Michael’s wing. He slowly tested his right wing against the water but even the slight resistance caused him to cringe. It took almost an hour for Alex to take care of the left wing before he drained some of the tub to keep the warm water gushing. Alex shifted over to the right wing and inspected the damage. As suspected, it was much worse than the other. He still took out mysterious clumps stuck in the barbs, but some of the feathers were torn, frayed, sliced in half even.

“There’s a lot of heavy damage here,” Alex told him. He wasn’t sure if an angel could feel every feather. “You might wanna take some time off from flying,” he suggested.

Michael hummed non-committedly. He shook his left wing out, spraying Alex with flecks of water.

“Hey!”

Michael just turned his head lazily, twinkle in his eye.

“You… You did that on purpose!” Alex exclaimed. Michael’s body shook with a silent chuckle. Alex retaliated with a kick, splashing Michael with a small wave. He grumbled, but with no malice. “Try to help a guy out and what do I get in return…”

“Thank you, Alex.” Alex continued to wash the blood off in lieu of saying anything in return. Michael looked exhausted, and Alex was content to let the angel rest his eyes. When he got the tip of the wing, he winced at the twitching of Michael’s wing as if protesting any touch. He dipped the cloth in the water, letting the warm droplets fall on the raw patch, taking note of Michael's face, lips taut.

“What does it feel like… to have your feathers torn out?” Alex asked. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he never saw Michael express pain like this.

“It’s similar to having your arms or legs torn out of their socket, I would suppose,” Michael answered. “It’s certainly not a pleasant feeling.”

“It’s going to sting then, I imagine. I’m sorry, but I really do have to clean this.” He brought the cloth down, noticing that Michael’s muscles were now tensed, arms grasping the edge of the pool. After he was satisfied with the cleaning of the feathers, he drained the tub again, focused on re-filling it with fresh water for the angel. He also ran his cloth down the top, hard cartilage that Alex knew could break bones with one swift motion. Michael’s wings flapped in the water, creating a miniature tsunami. Alex was curious, but Michael would only look down at the water, as though mesmerized by the bubbles. He rubbed the cartilage all the way down to Michael’s back, where the cartilage met flesh in the strong shoulders of the angel, and wiped down the exposed flesh between each wing. Michael’s back arched and his wings fluttered again.

“Michael?” Alex wondered.

Michael turned his head, eyes curious. “You’ve never said my name before,” he murmured softly.

Alex’s heart beat a little faster. He saw a bit of wonder and hurt in the angel’s eyes - was it because he felt like Alex didn’t acknowledge him?

“Michael,” he said again, a little louder this time.

“Alex,” he responded with a slight strain in his voice.

 _To Hell with it,_ Alex thought for the millionth time since he started this journey. He leaned forward, gently tilting the angel’s head back and slowly met the angel’s lips. It was slow and soft, warmth radiating all around them from the steam of their bath.

Michael’s eyes were half-lidded, from desire or exhaustion, Alex couldn’t be sure. But, by some unholy force, Michael found the strength to turn, wings at their full expanse and cupped Alex’s face, reuniting their lips. Alex let the angel’s tongue in his mouth, welcomed it with a groan as his hands wandered the wet expanse of Michael’s chest. His fingertips were drawn over taut muscle as he traced a trail from Michael’s abdomen to his collarbone, hands finding just enough of damp hair to hold onto, pulling the angel closer, thrilled at the touch of their bare skin.

“Alex,” he whispered against the blonde’s lips. The tension that he had made it feel like every fibre of his being was on fire.

“You don’t have to hold back, y’know,” Alex murmured, mourning the loss of Michael’s lips on his. He had no idea where this sudden desire came from, he tried to remember the times where he found Michael intolerable but conjured empty memories. Maybe he had always known he never truly hated the angel as he let on. Peering under the dark lashes of the angel now, he only saw sapphires staring back. He pulled Michael in closing, wrapping his legs around the angel’s torso until he could feel their groins touching. He groaned when he felt Michael’s manhood stiff against his inner thigh.

Michael gently unwound Alex’s arms and kissed the blonde’s jaw, neck and collarbone. He nipped at the bone before swiping his tongue over the golden flesh. He watched as goosebumps formed on Alex’s skin as he continued kissing downward.

“Michael…” It was barely a whisper, but Michael heard the dripping desire and couldn’t help a small shudder of his own, the flapping sound of his wings echoing. He loved hearing his name upon the man’s lips. He held Alex in his arm, leaning the man back to allow him access. He kissed the inside of Alex’s thighs, making the man’s legs tremble as he tore away the last of Alex's clothing. Delicately, he swiped his tongue from the base to the head of Alex’s cock, which elicited a pained sound. He continued his teasing ministrations until Alex let out a drawn-out whine. Alex was leaning back on his elbows, lifting his head to peer down at the unholy sight between his legs. Michael’s godforsaken tongue was going to be the death of him, his hands were warm from the water as he periodically dipped his fingers in the bath to trace warm trails along Alex’s legs. “Please…”

Obliging, Michael finally took Alex in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the head, pulling a loud groan from the man.

“Fuck…” Michael took it as encouragement as he continued, hollowing out his cheeks and slowly dragging his mouth up and down the shaft. He heard Alex’s ragged breathing bounce off the walls - it was music to his ears. He dipped one hand in the water before massaging the base of Alex’s shaft. He trailed a finger downward to tease the puckered entrance, causing Alex to buck his hips in want. Reaching over to a dark blue bottle, he popped the lid off and dipped two fingers in the oil before working on Alex. He soothed the entrance, coaxing Alex to relax before sliding a finger in. Alex panted lustfully, Michael’s name falling from his lips like a mantra.

“More… More… Yes…” He was no longer able to form proper sentences as he felt Michael work him open. After what felt like an eternity, he felt Michael tentatively nudge a second finger in. “Yes! More, s’good…” He threw his head back and moaned when he felt Michael slide his second finger in all the way. The desire in him burned, as though he needed Michael’s touch to survive. He wanted desperately to feel even closer to the angel. “C’mon,” he wriggled his lips lower, effectively forcing himself onto Michael’s fingers.

Michael swallowed around Alex’s member, humming in contentment to keep teasing the man. He loved watching Alex come undone at his touch. He half-jumped half-flew out of the tub, landing between Alex’s legs, his lower half dripping wet, wings spread wide. He watched as Alex studied his wings with awe and admiration, droplets falling softly on the floor. He aligned himself with Alex’s entrance before pushing himself just past the tight ring of muscle. He forced himself to stay still to let Alex adjust. With a deep groan, Alex dug his heel into the back of Michael’s leg. “Keep going,” he begged the angel. Michael barely had the self-restraint to keep from burying himself in Alex all the way, he would not do so well if Alex continued his wanton pleading.

He inched himself in slowly, alert for any signs of pain or discomfort he might cause Alex, feeling his restraint wither away bit by bit. “Alex,” he moaned once he was fully sheathed inside. He stared down at the man underneath him, face flushed and eyes bright. He wrapped his arms around the man, lifting him. Alex’s eyes were questioning, but he let the angel carefully handle him. He kissed the blonde deeply as the man wrapped his legs around Michael, which was exactly what the angel wanted. With Alex upright, he was even deeper in the heat of the human as he conveyed his adoration by standing, wrapping his wings around Alex. Keeping Alex occupied with sweet kisses, he guided them to the bed before gently laying Alex down again in red silk. It seemed more intimate this way.

Alex had never felt so safe, so loved. Even when he had been with Claire, he had never felt so at peace. Michael _worshipped_ him, he could tell that every move the angel made was for him and his pleasure even though he had been so deeply wounded in battle. His body responded to Michael’s touches with a spark that he’d never experienced before. He’d never even considered this - to find pleasure in a man let alone an angel, but with Michael’s torturously slow rhythm, he only craved more. He let his hands wander the sculpted perfection of Michael’s body, hands smoothing over the cartilage of Michael’s outstretched wings, marvelling at the muscle flexing beneath his touch. The lower feathers of his wings were still damp, but they felt smooth as silk as Alex ran his fingers between them, laughing softly at the way the wings seemed to hum and twitch.

Michael sighed softly, closing his eyes as Alex continued caressing his plumage; it felt utterly divine. It had been much too long since his wings received any care from another. He hooked one of Alex’s leg in the crook of his elbow, giving him more leverage to deepen his thrusts. He only took Alex’s escalating groans of pleasure to continue, quickening his pace. Feeling the muscles clench around him as Alex pulled him in closer had him on the brink. He let Alex guide him close, feeling the man’s arm wrap around his back, pressing between his shoulder blades to bring him in as the other hand grabbed at his thigh, urging him to go even deeper. He moaned against Alex’s lips, wings vibrating in excitement.

“Michael - I’m gonna -” Alex’s breath stuttered as he felt Michael’s long fingers wrap around his stiff manhood, gently stroking him to closer to completion.

“Let me hear you,” Michael demanded, breath hot against the shell of Alex’s ear as he tugged at the lobe with his teeth.

“Ah!” Alex yelped, every nerve and sense seemingly heightened. “Fuck,” he panted, muscles clenching. “So close, so close,” he muttered, fingers digging into Michael’s flesh. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he pleaded. He groaned as he felt his toes curl. “Michael… Ah! Come with me, Michael.”

The angel's eyes darkened a shade as he rested his forehead to Alex’s. His grip on Alex tightened a fraction as he worked Alex faster and faster. He felt his body tense as he slipped in and out of Alex, his body alive with the warm, tight sensation.

“Yes! Oh, god,” Alex stuttered, spilling in Michael’s hand. As soon as Michael felt Alex’s body quiver with his orgasm, he rocked back into Alex, hard enough that their flesh slapped together. He urged Alex’s mouth open for a messy kiss, desperation on his tongue. He slammed into Alex just a few more times before his own pleasure took over his body, his wings fell onto the bed, no energy left to hold them up. Alex lovingly smoothed his feathers, which only added to the sensitivity as Michael choked back a groan. He collapsed on his forearms, bracing either side of Alex’s face. The blonde cupped his face and swiped a thumb across his cheekbone, blue eyes lighter than ever before. It was a silent message of bliss and -dare he say it - love. Slowly, he pulled himself out of the man, rolling to the side as his wings hung limply behind him.

“Your wings… Do they hurt?”

“Not anymore,” Michael murmured against his lips as he pulled the man close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the read! It's been a wonderful ride for my fic in the fandom... I've been writing this fic non-stop, took me just under 24 hours so I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Truth be told, I don't really ship the two characers so writing it was a bit hard for me, but it was requested from a fellow Dominion fan and of course I couldn't say no! But, after writing them together, I'm fairly pleased with how it turned out. Tried to keep them as in character as possible, and I really appreciate your kudos & comments. I love the feedback! xoxo, hope to see you all soon!


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